“Hurrah!” exclaimed Isabel. “The literary society is started. When shall we hear Hilary’s inaugural address?”
“There is isn’t going to be any,” declared Hilary.
It was decided to meet regularly, like the other societies, on Friday night at seven-thirty. Hilary and the program committee were to arrange the first program for the following Friday. The first purchase was to be that of a musical bell, to be rung in the halls when the members were called to the meetings.
“There isn’t much time left, I’m afraid, for our other affair,” said Lilian.
“O, yes; look,” and Hilary pointed to her clock. “We did wonders in quick work on the Shakespearean Society.”
“That is because we had thought up what we wanted beforehand.”
“Let’s have an informal meeting now, with Eloise to put it to vote occasionally,” said Betty. “I think she would make a fine president anyhow.”
“O, no,” said Eloise; “Cathalina thought about it, besides.”
“Cathalina positively declined to consider it,” said that young lady. “You know, girls, how I’m doubling up work this semester. I’ll work in the clubs, and I’ll need ’em for recreation, but please don’t ask me to be president.”
Betty put the question after Eloise had been nominated and “seconded,” and the matter was concluded. Helen was to be secretary and treasurer. It was decided to have a pin, since it was not always convenient to wear a certain ring all the time. Cathalina asked permission to see about these pins in New York, to be the great delight of the girls who knew that they would be all the more beautiful and artistic if she attended to it.